


unspoken

by pragmatic



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:31:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmatic/pseuds/pragmatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She didn't surrender, until I had you under my knife."</p>
            </blockquote>





	unspoken

He didn't feel guilty about shooting Roan, they needed to know for sure if he was chipped or not. He did what he had to do.  
He would feel guiltythough if Roan decided to get revenge and took it out on Clarke. He wouldn't be able to live with himself in fact.  
So that's how he ends up sneaking into Roan's quarters at midnight and nearly dying himself.  
"What the fuck sky boy?" Roan whispers, Bellamy's neck squeezed into a head lock.  
"I would be able to tell you more accurately if you weren't cutting off my air supply." Bellamy wheezes.  
Roan laughs and releases him.  
"What are you doing here?" He says, suddenly serious. Bellamy rubs his neck before facing him, he really didn't know himself.  
"I just want to make sure Clarke isn't going to become collateral damage in our ... feud." He says, choosing his words carefully. He swallows when Roan doesn't answer right away, giving him a long look.  
"It wouldn't be me who made her collateral damage." He says finally, laying back down on the bed. Bellamy suddenly feels defensive.  
"I would never—"  
"Not you either." Roan's words cut clean across his own. When it seems Bellamy still isn't understanding what he means, Roan sighs and sits up.  
"When I captured Wanheda, she certainly made things difficult. She fought me every step of the way, played dead and tried to kill me once or twice. She never surrendered, until I had you under my knife."  
Bellamy stares at him, slightly stunned. "I, um, don't really know what to say to that." He admits.  
Roan groans and flops back onto his back. "You never do when it comes to that girl."  
Bellamy's defensiveness kicks in once again, but Roan cuts him off before he can speak.  
"Don't even try to deny it, you don't know how to deal with feelings. I've seen it first hand." He uses his foot to do what Bellamy assumes is supposed to be a friendly nudge, but it feels like a very hard kick.  
"I'm not the only one." Bellamy grumbles.  
"I agree, you both need to figure your shit out. Now let me sleep." He kicks Bellamy again and rolls over, already snoring by the time Bellamy gets to the door. 

———

Clarke stumbles around in the dark, finally seeing the glow from Monty's screens and walking toward him.  
"Couldn't sleep?" She asks, plopping down beside him on the table.  
He nods and continues to type away, almost ignoring her.  
"What are you working on?" She asks, trying to delay going back to bed. Monty glances at her.  
"Just practicing, so I don't get in Raven's way or slow her down."  
Clarke scoffs. "You're just as good a nerd as she is, trust me." He blushes.  
They sit in silence for a few moments, before Monty turns to her.  
"Can I ask you a question?"  
"Of course. What is it?" She sits cross legged and clasps her hands in her lap.  
"Do you have ... nightmares? About Mount Weather? Of the people there?"  
She nods and grasps his hand. "All the time, I'm sure Bellamy does too."  
Monty rolls his eyes. "I know he does, but not about Mount Weather." His eyes widen as if he's said something he shouldn't have.  
"Why would you say that? What else does Bellamy have nightmares about?" She knows that the ground has been traumatic, but she feels like Bellamy's worst experiences have been at Mount Weather.  
"I don't know if I should tell you." Monty says, turning back to his computer. She scoots closer.  
"Monty, come on. You know you can trust me."  
He stares at his screen for a moment before facing her again.  
"When Indra came to Bellamy and I and said you were in trouble, Bellamy went into overdrive. He went crazy looking for you, he crossed a damn battle field so he wouldn't get too far from you,"  
Warmth pools in her stomach and she clenches her fists, her fingernails creating half moons in her palms.  
"When he lost you again, he tried to follow you, it was pointless of course, with the bum leg and all—"  
Her jaw drops a little. "Wait, wait, wait. He tried to follow me even after Roan stabbed him? That's insanity."  
Monty gave her a look. "Love can do that to a person."  
She starts. Bellamy didn't—he didn't, love her. Not—not like that.  
"He doesn't love me." She states.  
"If you say so."  
"He doesn't."  
"I said ok."  
"Stop that!" She smacks his arm.  
"Ow! I'm not doing anything!"  
She glares at him and hops off the table.  
"You're welcome!" Monty calls.  
She flips him off over her shoulder and she hears his chuckle all the way down the hall.  
The hall where she runs into Bellamy.  
"Oh, hey." She takes a step back.  
"Um, hi." He rubs the back of his neck, nervous.  
"What are you doing up?" She asks, rocking on her heels.  
"Just taking a walk." He gestures vaguely to the hallway and she hides her smirk, he's a terrible liar.  
"Cool."  
"Thanks."  
They don't speak for a moment, then he says, "I guess I better get back to my room—"  
She catches his arm as he begins to walk away. "Actually, could you, um, would you mind staying with me tonight?" She gives him a half smile.  
He nods and tucks her under his arm.  
"Nightmares?" He asks, quietly.  
"Yeah." She answers, squeezing his side.  
She'll never tell that it wasn't her own nightmares that made her ask him to stay.


End file.
